


I Should Have Worshiped Her Sooner

by crockershaven



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crockershaven/pseuds/crockershaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>song: take me to church by hozier</p><p>interpret what you will! =)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Should Have Worshiped Her Sooner

> **
> 
> My lover's got humour. She's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval. I should've worshiped her sooner. If the heavens ever did speak she's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week. "We were born sick" you heard them say it. My church offers no absolutes. She tells me "Worship in the bedroom". The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you. I was born sick but I love it. Command me to be well. Aaay. Amen. Amen. Amen. Take me to church. I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life. If I'm a Pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side she demands a sacrifice. To drain the whole sea, get something shiny, something meaty for the main course. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞  
> 
> 
> **

  


His eyes are already dark with lust and wanton passion. His hair hangs around his head like a dark shroud, brushing against tanned and marked skin. Marked with ink, with scars, with invisible kisses, with streaks of blood. He doesn't know whose blood it is at the moment but it doesn't really matter. The air is spicy with sex, candles, and blood. He watches as her body bows up and crashes back into the sheets. Virginal white splattered with crimson. The knife in his left hand slices down the side of her rib cage as his right hand plunges fingers deeper into her. She moans, pleasure and pain muddling together, and his eyes go darker, blacker as his pupils widen, filling up the space where his irises used to be. 

He tosses the knife aside and replaces the cold steel with his mouth, teeth tearing the wound open further as his tongue darts out to lick up the blood as it drips down her pale flesh. The demon in his soul growls out against her, his fingers working her harder, pushing her past the point of pleasure and directly into pain. There are no safety words in this room. There is no going back. Her eyes open, a thin electric blue ring around endless black. She likes this just as much as he does. 

She gathers her energy, pushes his hand away from her as she reaches for the knife he discarded. He grunts as she shoves him to the bed, his eyes watching her as he breathes deeply, long moments between each exhale and inhale. The room is silent, save for their breathing. The dare is on his face, a wicked smirk breaking across his face as she raises the knife and runs it along his inner thigh. Now his breaths are coming faster. Adrenaline courses through his veins, excitement causing his skin to vibrate as he starts to pant. She digs the tip of the blade in just under his hip bone and her name explodes from his lips like a curse and prayer all rolled into one. 

He arches, driving the blade in further. They've been doing this long enough, they know how far to go and when to stop. She pulls the blade out and he watches the crimson liquid well up to the surface and he feels the hot, wet stickiness as it drips down the inside of his thigh. Her tongue darts out, licking up one of the little rivers and he moans out, hands fisting the sheets beneath him. He'll never beg, but he wants to. Her name is on his lips again but he sucks it back in. 

Later, when they're curled up on the bare mattress together, their wounds press together in a kind of blood ritual, mixing together. He murmurs her name, his long fingers stroking through her onyx hair. Her eyes look up to his, a kind of madness in them that plays well with the demon that lives inside of him. She smiles, her face breaking into a kind of brilliance that nearly blinds him. He presses his lips to hers, his arm holding her tighter, murmuring her name again as sleep over comes them, exhaustion seeping out of their pores.


End file.
